


Don't Miss It

by sunsetmog



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-17 03:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16966959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: Nick is hapless. Louis is less so.





	Don't Miss It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rsadelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsadelle/gifts).



> Thank you so much to jiksa and silvered_glass for running this exchange, and for being so patient with me when I needed some extra time. Much appreciated. 
> 
> **rsadelle** , I hope you enjoy this. 
> 
> This is sort of a canon AU, in that I've nabbed a few things from their timelines and mixed them up a bit. Imagine for the sake of a hand-wavey timeline that Nick started doing the early evening show a bit earlier and Louis started doing X Factor just a bit later.

"Um," Louis says, peering over the edge of the table. "Are you okay?"

"Totally fine," Nick says, nodding. "What made you think otherwise?"

"Mostly the fact that you're under the table at a party, if I'm honest," Louis says. 

"Cool," Nick says. "Would you mind, just for the sake of saving me from myself, pretending that I'm not here for a bit?"

"Cool," Louis says, because he's drunk and at a party and jet lag is the pits, and to be honest, if all of this is just a weird British Airways-related dream then at least his life might start making some kind of sense. "I'll just sit here, then." He pulls himself up onto the table, legs swinging. "Pretend you're not here."

"If you wouldn't mind," Nick says. He's making this sound completely normal, but Louis's not the one crouched under a table in a room where the party clearly isn't happening. 

There's a pause. Louis swings his legs. "You all right down there?"

"Fine, thanks," Nick says. 

There's a noise in the hall outside.

"I'm not here," Nick hisses. 

Louis hums. He's eating a Sainsbury's chocolate mousse he found in the fridge, and he's knocking it back with a can of mediocre warm lager. 

Someone pokes their head around the door. It's a guy, shortish hair, tall. "Have you seen…"

"No," Louis says promptly. 

"…Grimmy?" The guy finishes. 

"Nah," Louis says. "What are you looking for him for?" When he swings his legs back he keeps hitting something sort of solid and human shaped. 

"Idiot said he'd DJ tonight," the guy continues. "Apparently he's hiding somewhere."

"No idea," Louis says. "Sorry."

"You okay in here?"

"Just needed a break," Louis says, indicating the chocolate mousse. "Back in in a bit."

"Cool, okay. If you see Grimmy, tell him he was supposed to take over from Manny half an hour ago. Manny's had to start his set from the beginning again. No one's noticed yet, but they will."

Then he's gone, and Louis aims a kick backwards. "What are you doing, you idiot? Why are you down there instead of leading everybody in song out there?"

"Forgot my USB stick," Nick says miserably, crawling out from under the table. "Must have picked up my old lighter instead."

"Cool," Louis says. "Maybe you can just sing for everyone and wave your lighter about."

"I'd just be waving around something that looks a bit like a USB stick if you're in a rush. It's run out of, you know, the lighty stuff. "

"Of course it has," Louis says. He takes pity on Nick and offers him the remains of his can of beer. 

Nick, still sitting in the middle of the floor, takes a sip. "I meant to pick it up." He looks miserable. 

"I expect so," Louis says. 

Nick creaks awkwardly to his feet. "Better go and face the music, I suppose."

"Enjoy Manny's second run through, really."

"Yeah," Nick says. "Thanks for hiding me."

"Any time," Louis says, still fairly convinced that this has all been a dream. "Good luck."

"I'll need it," Nick says, and heads back out towards the party. 

****

"Aren't you supposed to be on the other side of the door?" Louis asks. He's clinging on to a very large Starbucks cup, and underneath it all, probably looks about as tired as he feels. 

"Forgot my pass," Nick says. "Fiona used to take pity on me but I don't work with her anymore and apparently I should 'learn my lesson' and just remember my stuff."

"Right," Louis says. He's supposed to be on Nick's show with him in about half an hour. It would obviously make more sense for Nick to be on the studio side of the locked doors. "Aren't you supposed to be on air soon?"

"Quite soon, yes," Nick says. He's cut all his hair off again, and frankly he looks ridiculous. Louis always thinks that Nick looks ridiculous, but now he just looks cold. It could be the shivering that's helping him with that masterful level of understanding though. 

"Do you think they'll let you in before then?"

"Hopefully," Nick says. There's a pause. Louis's motley crew of PR and PAs and the like are waiting down the hall. "Do you think there will ever be a time when I'm not looking like an idiot in front of you?"

"I expect not," Louis says. There's another, longer pause. "How do you reckon this interview's going to go this afternoon, then?"

"I mean, obviously I've prepared my questions in advance," Nick says. "But I've sort of locked myself out of my computer so I've got to be beg someone to get IT to reset my password, and then as soon as that's done I can just, you know, spruce them up a bit."

Louis grins. "Not written a word, have you?"

"Absolutely have," Nick says, which is clearly a lie. 

"Course you have," Louis says. His team are beckoning him down the hall, and from inside the offices, it looks like someone is finally giving into Nick's pitiful look and coming to let him inside. "See you in there, then."

"Yeah," Nick says. "You will."

****

"I had an imaginary camel growing up," Nick says. 

Louis snorts. 

"I did!" Nick says. "Used to take it for walks and everything, holding my hand behind my head."

"Totally normal," Louis agrees. Nick's studio crew are laughing. 

"My mum had to look after it for me when I went to the loo," Nick goes on, almost like this is a scheduled break in the interview and not a space where he has to think about what questions to ask next. "And she did, as well. Kept a hold on its lead."

"Nice of her," Louis says. 

Nick grins, and his smile lights up his face. 

Louis feels nothing at all, but if he buries his face in his Starbucks for a moment, then no one will ever know. 

****

"I thought you were the troublesome kind, Tomlinson," Nick says, one Friday night where they're both at the same party and instead of causing mayhem, Louis's sitting outside on the back terrace, having a cigarette. 

Nick's out on the back terrace with him, bumming a cigarette. And a lighter. 

"Forgot mine," he says cheerfully. "Remembered my USB stick, though. Just forgot I wasn't actually DJing tonight."

"Of course," Louis says, since Nick appears to ricochet quite merrily through life, leaving a degree of chaos in his wake, but few hurt feelings. Quite a combination.

"Troublesome," Nick says, waving his stolen cigarette in Louis's general direction. "Master of pranks, or whatever it is you're supposed to be."

"Tired is what I am," Louis says, since he _is_ the master of pranks, but he's also got a lot on his mind. 

"You need more sleep," Nick tells him. "You should switch to only working late afternoons and early evenings, like me."

"I probably should," Louis concedes. He finishes his cigarette and lights another off the back of it, just because he can. 

Nick elbows him. "Anything I can help with? In the not sleeping department? Friendly ear, that's me."

Louis smiles at him. "No, mate, you're all right. Just got a lot on."

"You could tell me about this little lad of yours, if you'd like. Like a baby, I do. Thought about having one for a while."

"You'd probably leave it somewhere."

"I would not," Nick says, outraged. "Well. Maybe. But I wouldn't mean to."

"I bet you're good with kids."

"I am," Nick says. His chest puffs out a bit. "Love a kid, me. I'm tall like a beanstalk and they like to climb all over me. It's my superpower."

"Being tall?"

"Being loved by kids." He elbows Louis again. "You love a kid, don't you?"

"Like my mum," Louis says. "She loved them too. That's why she had so many of us."

"Maybe she had designs on filming the remake of The Sound of Music," Nick says. "Did she ever dress you all up in curtains? It was curtains, wasn't it? Not, like, sheets or whatever?"

"Maybe she was modernising it for the 21st century."

"Maybe." Nick elbows him again, but it's softer this time. "I'm so sorry about your mum, Louis."

Louis ducks his head. "Thanks," he says. "Harry told me about your dad."

"Yeah," Nick says. "It really fucking sucks, doesn't it? Growing up. The stuff they don't prepare you for."

"Totally," Louis says. He throws the remains of his cigarette away. Inside they're playing the Arctic Monkeys. "You fancy a bit of a dance?"

"To this?"

"To whatever they're playing, mate," Louis says. "My mum always said, be happy when you're remembering me. And I like this song."

Nick glances at him, then chucks his cigarette away. It's almost burnt out anyway. "She was pretty smart, your mum."

"She was," Louis says. "Come on, let's go and have a bit of a jump around."

"You're on," Nick says, and holds out his hand.

****

"You did what," Louis says, once they're in Nick's kitchen and Nick's getting some shot glasses out of the cupboard and bringing out a bottle of tequila. 

"Swerved to avoid a cat and rolled my car over," Nick says. "Stop laughing at me."

"Oh my god," Louis says. "You're a fucking idiot."

"The cat was fine," Nick says. He hands Louis a lemon, and gestures towards the knives. "Cut that up."

"Glad to hear the cat was okay," Louis says, jumping off the counter and reaching for a knife and a plate so he can segment the lemon. "Wouldn't be a funny story if the cat had ended up squashed."

"I almost ended up squashed," Nick says. "Wrote off the car."

"Yeah, but you're almost flat anyway, all tall and everything."

Nick pours out two shots of tequila and then gets out a hipster salt cellar that's painted some weird shade of blue and probably cost a fortune. "Almost flat," he says, almost in disbelief. "And to think I'm trying to shag you."

Louis hacks the lemon into segments. "Are you?" 

"Kind of," Nick says. 

"Kind of," Louis echoes. "How come, kind of?"

"Well," Nick says. "That was me sort of feeling for clues. You know, you could answer something like, 'yes, Nicholas, you are right, I do like lads, and I like you too', and that would put me on the right track."

"Presumptive of you," Louis says, "thinking I'd give you all the answers like that."

"I know," Nick says. He slides a shot of tequila in front of Louis, and then reaches past him for a lemon segment. "Just thought I'd put it out there, though. My inability to read the signs."

"I've always had girlfriends," Louis says. "Barring that time where it was all a bit shit and I went out a lot."

"Lads?"

"Nah," Louis says. "Well. Once. But a few one night stands with girls. Normally I'm just here for the long term, though."

"I thought pop stars were all supposed to be shag, shag, shag."

Louis glances at him. "I'm a bit boring like that. Sorry."

Nick gives him a look. "Have your tequila, love."

Louis licks the back of his hand and sprinkles on some salt flakes. He waits for Nick to do the same, and then grins, reaching for his tequila shot. "Drink up."

They knock back the shots, and then Louis reaches for the bottle and pours out another one for them both. His heart's pounding. 

Nick looks at him for a moment, then grins. It's a bit lopsided. "Did I ever tell you about the time my bathroom wall just… fell off?"

"No," Louis says. "Are you making that up?"

"Do you think it would be funnier if I was?"

Louis smiles. "Probably not."

"You said you went with a lad once."

"Yeah," Louis says. "In my hotel room. In Ibiza. My mates didn't know. I had to throw him out afterwards in case they figured it out."

"Ah," Nick says, nodding. "You're straight, then."

"No," Louis says. "I just wasn't out."

"I've never been in," Nick says. "Think my dad wished I was, to be honest. Or a little bit less gay, I don't know."

"He loved you, though?"

Nick pours them both another shot. "He did."

"My mum loved me too. She said she wanted me to tell my friends while she was still around to support me." For a second, his fingers tighten on the edge of the counter top. "I miss her so much."

Nick reaches out to stroke his arm. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Anyway. Not in any longer. At least not to my friends."

"Brings me back to my earlier point," Nick says. "Re: shagging."

Louis laughs then, but even to his ears it sounds a bit awkward. "Christ," he says. "Yes, all right. Nick, I do like lads and I do like you. Okay now?"

Nick's smile is kind of wonky. "How bad's my timing?"

Louis considers. "It's unique," he says finally, because sometimes the grief just won't go away.

"Raincheck?" 

Louis manages a lopsided smile. "Yeah, all right."

Nick slides the shot down to Louis. "Let's get drunk, then."

"Now that," Louis says, licking the back of his hand, "I can get behind."

****

"Have you any idea what time it is?" Louis asks, blearily opening one eye after answering his phone. 

"Not really," Nick says. He sounds drunk. 

Louis doesn't actually know what time it is either, if he's honest. His body clock gets all out of whack when he travels back to LA, and he's taken to being awake for his time with Freddie and the rest of it's kind of a free for all. 

"You all right?" Louis asks finally, after Nick heavy breathes at him down the phone for a bit. 

"There's loads of films I haven't seen," Nick says. 

"Yes," Louis says, closing his eyes again and burying his face in the pillow. 

"Do you want to see some of them with me?"

"I'm dreaming," Louis says. 

"Maybe. I don't like films very much. Except for Bridesmaids. I like that film a lot."

"How drunk are you right now?"

"Possibly a lot. But I remembered my DJ stick."

"Your DJ stick."

"Not a lighty lighty." 

"Cool story," Louis says. "Films?"

"I think I'm asking you on a date."

Louis pauses. "You think?"

"Depends if you say yes or no. If it's no then I can pretend I'm just wasted and talking rubbish and we can never talk of this again."

"Seems fair." He attempts a bleary eye open again. It doesn't work. "If I say yes, then will you go away and come back when it's not the middle of the night?"

"Can't promise," Nick says. "I fell over."

"When?"

"Before. Do you want some chips?"

"I'm in LA."

"Not now. Later."

"Oh." Louis makes a face. "Okay then. Did you hurt yourself when you fell over?"

"A bit," Nick says, considering. "Chips and Bridesmaids, then?"

Louis has no idea what he's saying yes to, but he'll go with it. Nick probably won't remember anyway. "All right," he says, and they heavy breathe at each other down the phone for a few seconds before Nick hangs up. 

****

"Did you like doing X Factor?" Louis asks, late one night when Nick's shown up at Louis's house for seemingly no good reason other than he was in the area. He's brought them both some kind of hipster fake chip thats sort of waffle shaped, and a tub of hipster-made ketchup. Louis's got the Heinz out of the fridge because he's not a monster. 

Nick hums. He's hooked his feet over over the end of the sofa, and is lying sprawled out across the cushions with a waffle chip balanced on his nose. "Yes," he says. "Mostly. I was tired, though."

"Okay," Louis says. "Simon's asked me to do it this year."

"Simon likes you better than he likes me," Nick says, without any kind of edge. He's trying to get the chip off his nose without using his hands, and it mostly seems to involve sticking his tongue out a lot and trying to lick the chip into his mouth. Louis hopes that Nick's been at the Malibu before coming over, otherwise he's just this weird all the time. "And you like the mentoring side of stuff."

"How'd you know that?" 

"Just do," Nick says, finally managing to get the chip into his mouth, and only leaving a smudge of ketchup on his chin as a result. He wipes it off with the back of his hand, and then licks it off. He must be drunk, he's usually a lot more precise than this. "The Guardian will love to rip you apart, just so you know. They get a smug satisfaction from hating the X Factor."

"Can't please everyone," Louis says. It was the kind of life lesson that had taken a while to take root. He still forgets it a lot. Sometimes he forgets it too loudly and wades in places he'd rather not go. 

"Do you want to do it?"

This time it's Louis's turn to hum. "Yes," he says. "I'm pretty sure I do."

"Cool," Nick says. "I was on a date tonight."

"Oh," Louis says carefully. "It finished early."

"Well boring, he was," Nick says. "My friend said he was perfect for me, which is why I went, but it turns out he's not perfect for me and I'm pretty sure my friend has maybe mixed me up with someone else. Or never actually met me, I don't know. I was so bored I drank the whole bottle of wine. Then he told me he's taken up jogging so that he can get the boys, only his toenails have fallen off. I went into the loos and contemplated climbing out of the window. I would only have got stuck there though, and that would have been shit. So I just went back out, told him I had irritable bowel syndrome, and I needed to go and buy some Immodium, and left. Then I got chips and came here."

"Toenails?" Louis repeats. 

"Toenails," Nick says. "You've still got yours, right?"

"Yes," Louis says. 

"Cool," Nick says. He eats another chip. "Are we still rain checking?"

"For tonight, yes," Louis says, because starting anything with Nick Grimshaw is a complication and Louis's had enough of them, and because if he is going to do something complicated he'd quite like it if there wasn't a possibility of one of them having to throw up a bottle of wine mid way through. And also, he doesn't do one night stands, and he's not certain Nick does anything but. 

"I've got all my toenails too," Nick says. "In case you're interested."

"Riveted," Louis says. "Do you want a cup of tea?"

Nick stretches out. "All right," he says. "Can we watch Bridesmaids?"

Louis is pretty certain Bridesmaids won't be for him. Nick, however, has a very nice smile. "Go on, then," he says, and chucks the remote at Nick on his way past. "We'll probably have to rent it."

"I'll buy it for you," Nick says, very seriously. "Although I'll have to give you the money later."

"Write me an IOU," Louis says, fairly certain he's never going to see either the money or the film. Nick looks four seconds away from falling asleep, and there's no way Louis's watching it without him. 

****

Amazingly, Nick only falls asleep five minutes before the end, so Louis ends up seeing all of it. It's not as bad as he'd imagined, but that could just be because he's had 90 minutes of Nick's running commentary and his cheek pressed to Louis's shoulder. 

Turns out he'll put up with a lot for that. 

****

The phone rings at 6.30pm on a Wednesday, when Louis's just finishing up a writing session in Notting Hill. 

"You're supposed to be on the radio," he says once he's picked up to a cheerily enthusiastic Nick. 

"I am," Nick says. "We're doing three songs in a row. Have you eaten?"

"Nope," Louis says, finishing zipping his guitar case up. There's a car waiting outside for him. 

"I have a table booked for tonight at eight," Nick says. "Although full disclosure I booked it for me and Olive, except it turns out she's not coming down until two weeks on Thursday and I got the dates wrong."

"I feel very special."

"You are very special," Nick says. "Do you fancy joining me on four days of confusingly planned outings more geared towards my niece?"

Louis narrows his eyes. "You planned stuff?"

Nick sniffs. "I plan stuff," he says. "On the wrong weekend, it turns out, but I plan stuff." There's a pause. "Okay, I was trying to do better so if we ever do stop rain checking I could be a viable dating option, but you can't have everything."

"You're a viable dating option," Louis says finally. 

"Am I, indeed," Nick says. "Okay, cool, dinner tonight and pedicure tomorrow lunchtime."

Louis blinks. 

"It'll make you feel nice," Nick says, almost like he can tell Louis isn't entirely on board. "And I can check to see if you've got all your toenails."

"You're obsessed," Louis says. 

"Pleasantly interested in ensuring you've got them all," Nick says. "Come for dinner with me tonight."

"All right," Louis says. "But I'm wearing my shoes all night."

"Prude," Nick sniffs. "I'll text you the address."

"Cool," Louis says, and tries not to smile too widely as he hangs up. 

****

Dinner is a little hole in the wall Italian near Marylebone. It's not like anywhere Louis would have expected Nick to go, but apparently Nick's niece likes it here and had been there with her mum. 

"Nice, this," Nick says, sitting back in his seat. His legs are long enough that they keep bumping into Louis's under the table. There's garlic bread on the table but Louis's eating most of it. 

"I thought you'd be all, like, weird shit. Quinoa and avocado and whatever."

"Ehh," Nick says. "Sugar's bad for you."

"Sugar's nice," Louis says. "Life's bad for you." He nudges the garlic bread across the table. "I'm eating it all."

Nick takes a piece and pokes at the cheese on top. "Tell you the truth, I've got no idea what's good for you and what's not. And does it really make a difference if I'm eating nutritional yeast and brown rice but I'm knocking it back with vodka shots and a pack of ciggies? But I do it anyway."

"Yeah, you do," Louis says. "I can't be arsed, me. I like McDonalds too much."

"Yeah, but you're like, well fit anyway. You could live off McDonalds and I'd still want to shag you. I look like a potato."

Louis treats that with the respect it deserves and gives Nick a sharp kick in the ankle. "Stop fishing for compliments. You're well fit and you don't need to eat whatever nutritional yeast crap you're eating to make me think that."

Nick takes a bite of his garlic bread. He's gone pink. "What if it's the nutritional yeast that's making me fit, though?"

Louis rolls his eyes. "It's not the nutritional yeast, Nick. Shut up."

There's a pause. "Are we still rainchecking?"

Louis chews a bit of garlic bread. "Depends," he says finally. 

"On what?"

"Dunno," Louis says. "What you've got planned for me for the rest of the weekend."

Nick's eyes are bright. "Better up my game, then."

"Yeah," Louis says, but truth is, Nick's got to do nothing else but fucking show up, and Louis's his. He just hasn't figured it out yet. 

****

Nick's late. Louis was late too - he's always late - but Nick's later. 

Louis leans back against the boot of his car and lights another cigarette. It looks like it might rain, and Nick's not answering Louis's texts. 

Maybe Louis got the time wrong or something. It's a possibility. He'll give it another ten minutes. 

He gives it another twenty, and another two cigarettes before Nick pulls into the two parking spaces next to Louis's car. 

"Absolutely went to the wrong car park," Nick says, falling out of the car door. His dogs are in the back seat, barking and jumping up at the windows. 

"You told me where to come," Louis says. "This is your car park."

"And yet," Nick says brightly, "I still went to the wrong place."

"You're a terrible car-parker," Louis says. "Couldn't fit it in one space, could you? Had to take two."

"One day I'll wow you with my parallel parking," Nick says, opening up the back door to a barrage of excited dogs. He gets their leads clipped on and then they're jumping out and up at Louis and Louis's crouching down to show them the appreciation they're worthy of. 

"Wow might be pushing it," Louis says. 

"Probably," Nick says. "How are the toes?"

"Still pedicured," Louis says, getting back up on his feet. He takes one of the leads from Nick. "The toes feel very looked after."

"Good to do a bit of looking after," Nick says. They're taking the dogs for a walk. Louis isn't sure whether driving for an hour to walk the dogs around was on Nick's niece's list of things to do, but he'll take it. "Did I ever tell you about this bloke I was seeing when I was doing X Factor? We broke up, like, the moment it finished and I reckon it was because I was so busy, we never actually got to see each other apart from, like, these weirdly timed shags, and the moment we had time for a conversation we thought, like, fuck it? And didn't do it anymore."

Louis's trainers are already muddy. He probably should have brought some better shoes. "What was he like?"

"Good in bed," Nick says. "You know. Shorter than me."

"Huh," Louis says. He's got Pig and Nick's got Stinky. They're nice-tempered dogs, and they clearly adore Nick. 

"Wasn't that bothered about my dog, though. That should have been a black mark against him from the off, right? But he had a very good dick." There's a pause. "Gave good head, too."

"Nice," Louis says. "Was it better? Just having someone for sex?"

"No," Nick says. "Boring after a bit, innit? Sometimes it's just nice to lie back afterwards and look at the damp patch on the ceiling and say, 'doesn't that damp patch look like Jeremy Paxman', and have someone, like, look at it. He already had his jeans back on, and I was fucking knackered anyway, so I wasn't looking at the damp patch." There's a pause. "Not that I've got a damp patch. I look after my house, I do. It's more like a slightly discoloured area on the ceiling."

"Course you do. Course it is," Louis says. He stops, mostly so Pig can have a sniff at a plant, then raise her leg over it. 

"Would you look at my damp patch?" Nick asks, once Pig's had a wee and started to amble along again. 

Louis doesn't look up. "Yes," he says. "Don't know how much I want it to look like Jeremy Paxman, though."

"I'm happy to take suggestions for other lookalikes," Nick says. "It's not very cool, is it? Jeremy Paxman. Should have it look like Post Malone or something."

"Probably." Louis swallows. "I can't do on-again off-again casual or whatever. I'm not built for it. I want to be with someone. I'm scared you don't."

"I never know what the fuck I'm doing," Nick says. "I was once so hungover I couldn't go outside and tell them to stop towing my car away. I just said, 'oh well, I haven't got a car anymore'."

"You went and got it, though, right?"

"Later. After the hangover."

"You're such an idiot."

"I know. But I don't think I'm an idiot about you. Or maybe, like, I am an idiot about you. But in the right way. The sort of, you know, head over fucking heels kind of a way."

Louis's head shoots up. Nick's gone red. 

"Properly gone," Nick nods. "Properly, properly gone. If I was at school I'd probably have your name in hearts in my notebook or whatever. Not that I ever remembered my exercise books."

"Course not," Louis says. 

"Do you like me?" Nick asks. He looks oddly uncertain, a little hesitant. Stinky and Pig are at the end of their extendable leads. Pig's already stomach down in a muddy puddle. Nick doesn't appear to have noticed. "Do you think you might, like, I don't know, actually think about giving it a go with me?"

Louis's heart is pounding. 

"Louis," Nick says softly. "Don't leave me hanging on."

"Course I do," Louis says. "Course I want you, you idiot. Could love you, I could. Bit scared I've started already."

Nick's just looking at him. Louis looks back. 

"I can't parallel park," Nick says finally. "Not if I have to, like, angle it and shit. I can pull in at the side of the road. I'm not completely incompetent. But I can't parallel park."

"Well," Louis says. "I'm shocked."

Nick's face curves into a grin. 

So does Louis's. 

"Come back to mine after this," Nick says, and Louis's already saying _yes_ , even as Pig's running back towards him, dripping mud. 

Yes, yes, _yes_. 

****

Louis's asleep when Nick gets back from the radio, passed out on Nick's sofa with Stinky curled up against his chest, Pig on the floor by his feet, happily gnawing on one of Louis's shoes. 

He wakes up to Nick leaning over him and kissing Louis's forehead. 

"Hiya, love," Nick says. "I picked us up some tea. Salads."

"Oh no," Louis says. "What are you?"

"A monster," Nick says. "If you eat it without complaining, I'll go down on you later."

Louis raises an eyebrow. 

Nick shrugs. "Boy's got to try his luck."

"Yeah," Louis says, and he unceremoniously removes the dog from his chest, depositing Stinky on the floor. Stinky doesn't seem all that bothered, immediately going to play with Pig, and Louis takes advantage of the situation to tug Nick down onto the sofa with him. "But if you don't make me eat a salad at all, I'll go down on you right now."

Nick laughs, and cups Louis's cheek in his hand. "I'll tell you a secret," he says. "They're not my salads. I ordered us something else but I accidentally went home with someone else's order and I couldn't be arsed going back."

"Christ," Louis says. "What am I doing with you, hey?"

"Dunno," Nick says, and when he kisses Louis, he's laughing into Louis's mouth, and Louis's laughing back. 

****

Louis stays. He reckons the damp patch on the ceiling looks like Tony Stark. 

In the end, Nick agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> [rebloggable tumblr post](http://magicalrocketships.tumblr.com/post/181687400808/dont-miss-it-by-sunsetmog-nicklouis-5k-um).


End file.
